


Once More For The Road, Sam

by soullessbrothers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Bottom Sam, Canon Compliant, Hair-pulling, Hallucinations, Ice Play, M/M, Mental Institutions, Protective Lucifer, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soullessbrothers/pseuds/soullessbrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer takes Sam's torment to a new level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More For The Road, Sam

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from an anonymous user. Warning: lots of porn, hair-pulling, (almost) ice play, set when Sam is institutionalised for his Hallucifer refusing to let him sleep. Azazel's imagined face claim is Karl Urban's Black Hat (minus fangs) thanks to the prompt.

The hospital bed was pooled with Sam’s sweat. He shivered. Lucifer perched on a set of drawers and hummed obnoxiously. Sam closed his eyes and willed the sound to stop, the visions to stop, but the mattress bowed beside him and Lucifer petted his hair.

“You okay there, Sam? You don’t look so hot.”

He refused to speak. His body was leaden and the little energy he had was spent rolling over onto his side. Every muscle burned.

“You’re being rude. We’re friends now. Talk to me!”

Sam screwed his eyes and concentrated to imagine Dean, but even that was beyond his grasp. The mattress lifted and then lowered again, so that Lucifer was back in front of him. He felt a cold finger tickle underneath his chin. He would have moved if it was physically possible.

“I was just thinking, hey, we’ve got a room, we’ve got privacy, I’ve got the fireworks—” another set of whistles and bangs made Sam flinch “—so how about we have a party?”

The only sound that escaped his mouth was a breathed groan. He couldn’t. No more. Maybe Lucifer was right, maybe this was still the Cage. If this was real, Dean would have been by his side. Sam himself couldn’t have imagined this kind of torment. Imagining being free, but then being dragged back to Hell, well, minus Michael roaring and burning the air, this was it. He couldn’t. It was too much.

“You’re getting boring, Sam. I have someone that wants to see you. He’s been really good, made you what you are. You should say thank you.”

Lucifer’s words didn’t make any kind of sense. Sam felt jagged tendrils of sleep rip at the back of his eyelids. He was close, so close, but Lucifer dragged him back with a tug of his hair and made his eyes snap back open.

“At least talk to _him_.”

Sam choked. Six feet of stubble and dark hair, a flared nose, head to toe of black leather and oh god, those eyes, those yellow eyes. He spluttered. The vessel was different but the eyes were the same. He’d slipped younger, younger in body at least, and that damned demon sat on the free side of the mattress and squeezed Sam’s shoulder.

“Daddy’s gonna look after you again, darlin’.”

More tears burned up from the back of Sam’s throat and salted already-raw cheeks. Azazel cooed and thumbed them away. There were no more. Sam had cried too often and the well was dry, the pain had already reached its threshold and the knives in his chest left gaps too far open for Yellow Eyes to make a difference. He wasn’t sure whether that was a relief or a new fear.

“He made you for me, Sam,” Lucifer murmured. “He loves you almost as much as I do.”

“Please.”

Lucifer stood and nodded at his faithful servant. Azazel pulled the ragged Sam up and into a sitting position. Sam drifted briefly out of consciousness, but he shivered back to life when warmth spread across his back. He found himself lying back with Azazel behind him. He was against the bastard’s chest, with bastard arms around his waist. He could feel his skin sticking to the leather jacket that Azazel had decided to wear. The last time he had been so hot and so cold, he had been trapped between Lucifer and Michael, in avalanche and volcano.

“Y-you’re dead. Dean—”

Lucifer chuckled. “Sam! After all he did, you didn’t think I’d bring him back after your brother tried to smite him? You know me better than that.”

“I worked too hard to let some gun take me from you, Sammy. I had faith.”

“Who loves you better than us?”

“We’ll protect you, Sammy.”

“Stop fighting so hard.”

The voices bled into each other and Sam couldn’t keep track. His eyes rolled shut again. Sleep refused to come. Instead there was a hand, a hand that splayed fingers across his chest and ran down the hospital gown. It caressed his stomach and those fingers curled at the hem, pulled upwards. More cool breezed up his body. Hospital staff had changed the white top and trousers to make it easier for bed baths, and how Sam hated them for this moment.

Lucifer pouted. “I’ve already been inside you, Sam. Don’t be shy.”

“Please.”

“Azazel? I forgave him for what he had to do to you. Give him a chance, kiddo.”

That hand wrapped itself around Sam’s shaft and held it gently. Sam managed to turn his head, managed to look up at the smiling Yellow Eyes that kept him upright and winced at the soft kiss that found its way to his forehead.

“We’re soldiers, darlin’. Daddy had to make some sacrifices and, well, you were always gonna end up there. The boss told me everythin’.”

The southern drawl from the new vessel purred into Sam’s back and somehow he had moved again, this time higher, the base of his neck supported by Azazel’s shoulder. The blackout tightened his chest. Lucifer had moved too, his knees on the mattress, heavy enough to make the old metal groan. He held Sam’s jaw in his palm and kissed with icy lips. When he smiled, he stroked a palm back through Sam’s hair and let their noses press together.

“You trusted me before, Sam. Now we’re talking, things can change.”

“No. No. I can’t.”

“Just breaking you apart to put you back together.”

Sam swallowed bile. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Sammy, everything he does is for a reason.”

“How’s _he_ here, in the Cage? You know what, I, I am out. Dean’s going to figure out how to—”

“Dean?” Azazel barked a laugh. “Dean can’t do shit. You want to think about your real family, Sammy. Your last moments are going to be a goddamned Paradise.”

A whimper fell from his lips when the hand around his cock began to move. Lucifer smirked and his fingers traced circles on the inside of his thigh. Sam would have protested, wanted to protest, but his face and crown were covered in kisses, in gentle mouths that murmured that he was important, that he had done well, that he was loved.

Whether it was the affection or the broken sleep, Sam felt it.

“I’m already dead,” he croaked.

“Sure, Sammy,” Azazel purred. “We’re here to take you home.”

It could have been a hundred years or a thousand, but Sam felt his growing erection and tensed when he felt Azazel’s thumb spread precome like lube. Lucifer patted his thigh and his legs fell apart while his gown rolled higher. Sam lowered his chin to his chest, but no, that wasn’t what they wanted. Azazel used his free hand to thread into his hair and tug back, tug hard enough to let the moan that balled in Sam’s throat to escape.

“You see, Sam? I’ve been in your head, I know what you want.”

“Punishment,” Yellow Eyes sneered.

“I-I failed him, I should have—”

“Then I’ll make it goddamned _hurt_.”

The fist around him pumped harder and Sam’s breath was as ragged as the slow burn that raced across his skin. Lucifer shook his head as he let go of his thigh and pulled at the gown, pulled it high enough to hitch under Sam’s arms, and high enough to expose the stomach and chest with hair matted with his nervous sweat. When Azazel gave the hint of a squeeze, Lucifer thumbed a nipple and pinched it stiff. He bent his head down to flick a tongue over the peak and it was like ice, like a cube rolled over and over until water steamed from his skin. But then there was heat, too. A harder squeeze made Sam gasp and jolt a few inches higher, so Azazel could turn his head and breathe heat across his neck and shoulder.

And bite. Hard.

Teeth found the soft flesh, and Azazel slid out from under him to bite bruises into his collarbone. Skin burned red and threatened purple curves. Sam’s scream made Azazel chuckle and Lucifer massage that untouched nipple. A flush of energy pressed Sam’s hips up and he was so hard, so hard that his muscles ached and Azazel let go.

“W-wait—”

“I knew you’d like it, Sam. He’s done so much to you.” Lucifer pulled back to kiss his temple. “He won’t hurt you.”

Sam hardly noticed the look they shared, or the rumbled laugh that Azazel gave as he moved down the bed. He didn’t notice that his knees were pressed firmly aside. Azazel sat between them and he bowed. His mouth drew a wet line from one knee up his thigh and Sam moaned again. Lucifer cupped Sam’s cheek and kissed him. As Sam’s cock thrummed against his stomach, as his skin blistered at Azazel’s stubble against the other thigh, Lucifer’s cool tongue slipped into his mouth. Sam lifted his head and swallowed the cold. A line of ice slipped and pooled into his stomach, enough to make him writhe up, enough to make him gasp in surprise at a warm tongue that started at the tip of his cock and trailed down to the base.

When they kissed, Azazel drew the head between his lips and traced his tongue over the soft slit. Sam mewled into Lucifer’s mouth.

“Sam, you need to be big and strong now. Azazel.”

Azazel took the hint and made an obscene pop when he sucked back from Sam’s cock. With careful persuasion and even more careful hands, the pair were able to shift Sam over. They rolled him until he found enough purchase to half-kneel, head on the mattress, arms practically limp at his sides and ass in the air.

It took a few more moments before Azazel was able to twist himself. He found the gap between Sam's spread legs and his taut stomach. On his elbows, he leaned up and soon that cock was back in place. He leaned further and hollowed his cheeks for another inch, drew out another cry from his special Sam. And Lucifer stood. Sam had been pulled to an angle so knees clung to the edge of the mattress, and Lucifer stroked his palm down Sam’s bare spine. He smiled at the shiver and curled his palm to a finger, a finger that lowered and lowered until it found his spread cheeks, his inviting hole.

“It’s so good when you give in.”

Lucifer’s finger pushed against him and it served to rock his hips forward. Azazel moved with him and swallowed to his base, let the tip of his tongue tap up against him. He purred to make his mouth vibrate and god, Sam’s guttural howl pitched up, higher, higher when the finger was pulled away, spit slicked and shoved inside him with no warning. Hot and cold, over and over, so Azazel sucked back and forth with Lucifer holding the pace. More spit and a second finger began to help scissor him open. Azazel stretched back to roll his tongue over Sam’s sensitive head and he swallowed more precome.

How Sam keened.

There was a curl to those fingers and Lucifer knew him inside and out. He knew where he felt good, where that sweet spot was and oh, he found it, brushed both fingers over it until he forced an inhuman cry from Sam’s throat.

“Not yet, Sam. I know you want to, but not yet.”

Lucifer pulled his fingers free and freed himself. He stood tight to the bed and rolled his hips forward to tease that empty hole. His free hand reached around Sam to grip the base of his cock tightly and fuck, Sam swore, begged, willed to spill over. Azazel only mouthed more roughly around his dick and Sam panted at the blackness that threatened to overtake him. The thoughts of sleep were gone, but oh god, he needed to come, he really did, he would have sold Dean’s soul and—

“Shit!”

Shit, shit, Lucifer spat more around his cock and shoved that back in place, forced it into the hilt and there it was, the Cage again, when Michael rested and Sam cried in Lucifer’s arms until their mouths locked and that was it, this was it, he pushed backwards onto frozen cock and forward into the heat of Azazel’s mouth, bit his nails into his palms almost hard enough to draw blood, desperate to cling to whatever he could cling to, balled those ached fists in sheets and the slap, slap, slap of Lucifer’s skin on his skin, and the gruff growling of Azazel swallowing his shaft. Azazel’s hand reached up to massage his balls and when, when, when did that get there? When had he moved his mouth to lick at his heavy balls, when did he suck one into his mouth?

He couldn’t concentrate. More precome escaped and his balls were in heaven, but Lucifer angled himself to hit his prostate over and over, hard enough for the universe to go dark and fuck, Azazel engulfed his cock all over again and Lucifer let go to bruise his hips and buck harder, and no, it was impossible, it was all impossible until Sam came, oh god he came, and Azazel must have felt a difference in his body somehow because he swallowed as soon as it shot hard and fast into his mouth.

The hits to that spot continued, over and over and Sam lost himself. Azazel rolled out from underneath him and sat up, tugged his hair back and stole his own kiss. He pushed his tongue forward and Sam tasted himself, yelped as Azazel pulled his hair harder and Lucifer pistoned his hips.

But that was it. Sam felt his insides melt and Lucifer’s orgasm was warmer than the cock that fucked him. There were a handful more shallow thrusts and then Lucifer withdrew so that Sam slumped into the bed again. Azazel softened his grip and petted him again.

“You’re almost mine again, Sam. Just let yourself go.”

Lucifer rubbed his finger back inside Sam, pressed right up to the knuckle and clicked his tongue as he appreciated the sensation of his come. Azazel smirked and patted Sam’s shoulder. There were no words left. Sam was spent. He couldn’t think. Only hints of Azazel and Lucifer were left, the dull ache of bruises that blemished across him. How could he keep saying no? He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live. He was so tired. He was so sore. Lucifer had him, and he didn’t protest. Hell, he wanted it, he wanted it like he wanted it in the Cage, like he wanted Azazel’s twisted care, like he wanted not to be a freak, not to be a failure.

“Sammy?”

He forced his eyes open. Azazel was gone. Stood tense at his bedside was Dean, was a pale Dean, and behind him, oh fuck, there was Lucifer, perched back on the chest of drawers.

“ _Sam_.”

Sam choked all over again. He broke at the sight of Dean’s worry, at the feeling of Dean pulling the gown back down in place.

“We’ve gotta get you back in pants if you’re gonna try to burn out my eyes, Sammy.”

It hurt, but Sam smiled. This was it. This was his reason to live. So he kept fighting.


End file.
